Quotes About Anxiety

Oh,' she burst out. 'I hate this—I hate it.' 'What?' 'Just—this. I feel as though I'm waiting for something and I'm getting scared it might never come.

Doktorlar?n koÅŸturmas?n? iyiye iÅŸaret olmad???n? biliyordum. Normalde duygular?n? belli etmemeyi öÄŸrenmiÅŸ, soÄŸukkanl? ve mant?kl? insanlard?. Fakat yüzlerindeki bu maskenin kayd???-telaÅŸland?klar? ya da seslerini yükselttikleri- an, kayg?lanman?z gerekirdi.

What she has always dreaded is here. It has come.

Suzy Zeus is tense as stemware, not explosive, just on edge— needs a ten-foot wall around her, or at least a ten-foot hedge, Suzy's straining, teeth to toenails, easing backward on the ledge.

I had been feeling a little rum. I didn't think it was anything serious because years ago I felt a lump and it was benign. I assumed this would be too. It kind of takes the wind out of your sails, and I don't know what the future holds, if anything.

Fear—real, honest-to-God debilitating fear—is an affliction.

Those with the greatest awareness have the greatest nightmares.

If you weren't here and Oma died, I'd deal with it. Because there'd be nothing more to lose. It'd be just me. But now it's different; it's worse. Because you're yet another person to lose. You do stupid, dangerous things, and every time you go away, I pray in agony that you'll come back. It's unfair. Hope is pulling me to pieces. I can't stand it.

It was because I was scared. Scared of standing out, scared of being invisible. Scared of seeming too big, scared of being too small.

Comme si c'était pas déjà suffisant de crever, il faut encore se cogner les angoisses de ceux que les métastases laissent provisoirement de côté...

The major stumbling block for coping well with our conflicts in living with each other is set up when we interfere with another person's decision-making process, when we routinely manipulate our fellow man's wants by making him feel anxiously threatened, guilty, or ignorant.

Qué miedo, qué miedo atroz de morir para siempre!

a form of waiting that, depending on the circumstances, can resemble fascination, terror, curiosity, or hope.

Det finns en märklig paradox i en spirande kärlekshistoria. Man blir ängslig. Rädd för att tala om för den andra parten att man inte kan låta bli att tänka på henne eller honom hela tiden. Man vill ge allt, men man snålar, hushållar med lyckan som om den gick att spara, lägga på hög. Kärlekens begynnelse är lika idiotisk som bräcklig.

Elle lui expliqua que les adultes avaient peur de toutes sortes de choses, peur de vieillir, peur de mourir, peur de ce qu'ils n'ont pas vécu, peur de la maladie, parfois même du regard des enfants, peur qu'on les juge.

Imagining the worst has always been a great comfort to me. If there is turbulence there is an imminent crash. If she doesn't pick up the phone, she is fucking someone. If there is a lump it is a tumor. By thinking like this I protect myself from disappointment. And if anything other than the worst-case scenario unfolds, what a pleasant surprise!

I need to complicate everything to protect myself from success and to remain complicated and overwhelmed. I

My brain loves obsessions. If it can make me hate myself, then it's all the better.

In spite of the escalation, there was as yet no sense of an impending crisis.

Æthelwulf's sons might well have worried that their new twelve-year-old stepmother

For, just as in the beginning it is formed by desire, so afterwards love is kept in existence only by painful anxiety.

It was she whom I loved and whom I could not therefore see without that anxiety, without that desire for something more, which destroys in us, in the presence of the person we love, the sensation of loving.

To such beings, such fugitive beings, their own nature and our anxiety fasten wings. And even when they are with us the look in their eyes seems to warn us that they are about to take flight. The proof of this beauty itself, that wings add is that often, for us, the same person is alternately winged and wingless.

One can feel an attraction towards a particular person. But to release that fount of sorrow, that sense of the irreparable, those agonies which prepare the way for love, there must be -- and this is perhaps, more than a person, the actual object which our passion seeks so anxiously to embrace -- the risk of an impossibility.